Draw Me
by Ailith111
Summary: My first SongFic. Tony/Gibbs, don't like it don't read. One-shot.


**Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS. Would you care to guess what would happen to Tony and Gibbs if I did? Nor do I own the song 'Draw Me'. Here the credit goes to Sonata Artica and Tony Kakko. **

**A/N: Okay, guys, don't kill me. This is my first songfic although I'm a big music fan. I just got the idea, then almost instantly thought of the song. And well, when I get the idea… Also, this is slash of the Tony/Gibbs variety, so feel warned. **

**DRAW ME**

Anthony DiNozzo, was not, by any chance, an ordinary man. He was a man of many talents, most of which were widely known to his friends and co-workers, as he was, by birth, not very modest.

However there were a few things he kept to himself.

_Blessed with an eye to see things as they are, will you draw me?_

Tony loved drawing.

He never told anyone, so as not to be forced to draw the crime scenes (Gibbs), hear the constant teasing (McGee) or get long unreadable glances (Ziva).

He drew at home, mostly from memory or he went to a nearby park and sat there, his back pressed to the tree, sketching the faint outlines of whatever was on his mind at the time.

_Up there on the wall, looking down to us all, you never saw me..._

There was one time, _only _one time when he tried drawing at work. It was a fiasco, to put it mildly. Gibbs spotted him instantly and Tony had to crumple up the sketch and throw it away. Of course, he got it out of the rubbish bin and took home, but the paper never looked the same.

For Tony it was a breakthrough. It was then that he decided to crumple up his feelings, just like he had done to the paper sheet. Occasionally, he would open a drawer and look at that sketch, just to see what he relinquished. Or rather – whom.

A smiling face of Leroy Jethro Gibbs looked back at him but sometimes Tony could swear he saw him narrowing his eyes in complaint.

_I found a pen, and I outlined a life._

Tony sketched when he was sick, when he had inspiration or just too much time. Once, while sitting under the usual tree in the usual park he spotted a couple of playing children. He was sketching them until dark, his fingers completely cold and stained with the lead from the pencil. The next day he had a terrible cold, but the sketch was well worth it. A friend of his framed it, and so it was displayed in his apartment right above the fireplace, where the glow of the dancing flames made the children's eyes come alive.

_You've never cried, I think I saw a tear in your eye._

When Tony's car broke down and Gibbs came to pick him up he saw the picture. There were so many emotions swirling in those blue orbs, that Tony had to turn his eyes away. Gibbs was missing his family, his daughter, and Tony could almost feel his pain.

_Your eyes tell the tale, I will not ask again._

_Now I see what you've lost nothing is quite the same._

This was a forbidden subject, a taboo of sorts. They did not talk about Gibbs' family and his mood was fairly bearable. Tony knew his boss was hurting, but there was nothing he could do.

_By the love of my heart, cut my drawing in half, for I think I'm like you... __Should you draw me..._

And then Gibbs left again. He didn't resign from NCIS like the last time. No. He got an assignment in Syria, a six months undercover assignment, and they all missed him very much. Tony was the boss again, but he couldn't find pleasure in it. The air was thick between him and his friends and there was no way to resolve this without Gibbs around.

Tony felt as if there was a hole in his heart. He came home to draw, only to burn the drawings in the end. He wondered whether Gibbs missed him too.

_Waiting for my evenfall._

The waiting was becoming unbearable. Tony actually went as far as to count out the days to Gibbs' return. There were only two moths left.

_Farewell, my passion, you slowly turn pale._

One month left and Tony would sometimes wake up in the middle of the night, trying to remember the face of the only man he ever loved. There was a thick fog in his mind and during these dark nights the sheer intensity of his feelings often left him breathless. He hated feeling vulnerable.

_I will long for you warmth, made me feel safe._

One day left. Tony promised himself to be strictly professional around his boss. He would be a good agent, he wouldn't annoy anyone, he would be left alone in peace.

He would long for Gibbs at night in the safety of his home, far away from the prying eyes.

_I will not draw again, 'till I know it's my time._

He promised. But there it was again. His heart beating so fast, he thought it would clear itself a path through his chest. And then there were Gibbs' arms around him, no professional handshake, nothing, and all his promises went to hell.

_I have lived a long life, should I draw me..._

There were times when Tony thought about quitting NCIS. He thought of making himself a cozy life as a private instructor for something, he wasn't quite sure what, and packing his feelings away in a little box labeled 'past'.

_Morning's here, I must have...failed__._

But yet here he was. Another day at the office, then in the field. Vance yelling at him, Abby with her crazy ideas, Ziva with a cold attitude and McGee with a nerdy smirk. And Gibbs with a playful smack in the head, long fingers – so warm, but sending shivers down his spine.

_Someone save me…_

In the evening he would come back to his empty apartment and draw. Mostly from memory or he went to a nearby park and sat there, his back pressed to the tree, sketching the faint outlines of whatever was on his mind at the time. He would sketch Gibbs, his smiling blue eyes, and the dimple in his cheek. And then he would find someone staring at him, the image a mirror of the sketch in his hands. Icy blue eyes warm with unspoken feelings, hands so warm and lips – soft and his. His only.

**Chaotic, I know. **

**Okay, I officialy admire anyone who can get to the end of this fic. Tell me what you think. **


End file.
